Magic
by wujy
Summary: Everything in the universe is connected to everything else. This simple belief blurs the edges between numerous philosophies, religions, and sciences. It is zen, and karma, and tao. It is the unknown, the divine, and the soul. It's in a secret. It's in a kiss. It's in our first moments and in our last. It is Magic, and it binds all things.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

Note: This story was written for Round 3 of Fanfiction Idol.

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Magic

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Everything in the universe is connected to everything else. This simple belief blurs the edges between numerous philosophies, religions, and sciences. It is zen, and karma, and tao. It is the unknown, the divine, and the soul. It's in a secret. It's in a kiss. It's in our first moments and in our last. It is Magic, and it binds all things.

/-

Tom Marvolo Riddle was fifteen years old when he first realized that he was rather good-looking. Good-looking enough, in fact, that he possessed a nearly preternatural ability to persuade women with barely more than a dashing smile. With a bit of practice, he could do so effectively with very little consequence to himself. Some women wanted danger and a rough hand. Others preferred a shy hesitation followed by swift execution. Still others responded to flowery compliments and meaningless gestures of consideration. Hundreds of women, and while they were all different in many ways, he found them so very easy to manipulate. All he had to do was know where the right buttons were and how to press them.

By the time he was twenty-five, Tom had seduced and swindled women of all backgrounds, demeanors, and statures. He had played the game so long, that he'd begun to notice a pattern in some women. There were those who had more buttons than others. Some women would do anything for you with the right push here or there. Press in just the right combination, and you can get her to do anything you ask, and to do it with a smile on her face. For him, women would steal. They would lie. They would kill. They would act with little remorse, for they believed without a shadow of a doubt, that what they did was for love.

And when he killed them, they died still believing.

/-

Bellatrix Black was sixteen years old when she first conceived a child. The father was her school sweetheart, Rodolphus Lestrange. The two promptly left Hogwarts in favor of private tutoring, and were wed two weeks later in a private ceremony at the Lestrange estate. It was during the following reception that Bellatrix was introduced to a twenty-five year old Tom Riddle. She couldn't have known then to whom she was speaking, for the First Wizarding War would not begin for another three years, but she was instantly drawn to Tom's charm.

While she could have been described—at that age—as an impressionable young woman, Bellatrix was no stranger to darkness, and it was darkness she found in Tom. It wasn't an overbearing darkness, like that of her family. Tom possessed a sort of subtle, aimed darkness that was nearly tangible as it wrapped around the target of his intent. He was a wicked mystery, and his words were wisps of delicious danger.

She found that she wanted to be impressive to him. Though she had only just met him, she wanted to be something he would brag about. They spoke for months, growing close enough for him to tell her of his ultimate plan. It was unfortunate, of course, that she would soon be entering into motherhood, for having children made a woman weak and boring.

Bellatrix Lestrange was seventeen years old when she miscarried by her own hand.

/-

Lily Evans was nineteen years old when she first met Alice Longbottom. Properly, anyway. They had gone to school together, though Alice was several years older. Alice had been Head Girl in her year, and Lily had always admired her quiet strength—her brave intellect. They met, oddly enough, in a class, but not a magic one; it was one for expecting mothers.

While the war waged outside St. Mungo's, the two found a sort of normalcy in their class, but more importantly, they found a strong companionship in one another. Over the course of eight months together, Lily and Alice became famous friends. They were able to talk about the world and yet not be part of it, which became a necessary reprieve from fighting and hiding. It was the first time since Severus that Lily felt as though she had made a true friend, and Alice… Well, Alice had never had a real friend before.

Alice Longbottom was twenty-six years old when her first real friend died.

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James Potter was twenty-one years old when he first realized that Peter Pettigrew was not his friend. The moments spanning the short amount of time between the invasion of his home and the extinguishing of his life lasted an entire lifetime, and one during which he had adequate time to evaluate the choices he'd made in his.

The first choice James Potter had ever made resulted in the scream that came from him as he was brought into the world. The second was a deep, panicking breath followed by a second scream. And as the spark of life ignited in him, he continued making decisions his entire life.

In the beginning, there wasn't much variation to his pattern of screaming and then breathing, but he branched out as he grew older. From his first decision, James Potter was nothing more or less than he ever could have or should have been. He chose to fly and to dive, to befriend and to torment, to love and to grow. He became a friend and companion, an athlete and a role model, a husband and a father.

In the end, James Potter's last decision made him into a hero.

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Petunia Dursley was twenty-six years old when she first met her nephew, but if she's honest, it wasn't his cries at her door that woke her in the small hours of that morning. She had already been awake, terrified by the nightmare that had stirred her in the night. She had dreamt of her sister's demise, and had she bothered to pursue any real knowledge of how Lily had died, she would have been startled to discover how much of dream had in fact not been a dream at all.

Even as she made her way to her front door, Petunia knew what would be waiting on her doorstep—a baby she had no desire to care for. What she could not have expected, however, was the woman standing over the baby. At first scandalized, Petunia made to withdraw into the house, but when Alice Longbottom looked up into her eyes, Petunia was stunned into paralysis. She was unable to do anything but listen as Alice informed her exactly what she thought of her, threatened her life if she didn't take care of the boy, and promised to avenge Lily's death. Alice disappeared a moment later, and Petunia never spoke of the encounter to anyone, not even her husband.

Twelve hours later and a hundred miles away, Alice Longbottom first experienced the Cruciatus Curse.

/-

Agatha Longbottom was fifty-nine years old when she first sat down with her grandson to teach him to walk. He was all wobbly knees and overlarge head at that time, and could not for anything keep his balance without holding on to a chair or table. Her attention was diverted by a pecking sound at her window, and she glanced up to see a large barn owl on the sill. It was a bit worse for the wear, and the letter it carried was bloodied, which wasn't altogether uncommon in those times. There was good gold in intercepting the right owls.

Agatha's hands shook as she cross the room to retrieve the letter. Alice and Frank had been gone nearly two days, and she feared the worst. She glanced at Neville, who was standing against a chair in the next room, looking at her with a child's wide, trusting eyes. She looked back down at the parchment in her fingers and read the news

Her breath left her and her hand went to her face. Tears sprang to her eyes and she sobbed. Frank—the miracle child she'd conceived after having been told she was unable—was gone. Agatha's heart fluttered, her mind blanked, and she fell to the floor. Her grandson, confused and scared, though he didn't know why, wished beyond wishing that he could understand. He summoned everything he possessed to reach his caretaker.

Neville Longbottom was a year old when he took his first steps, but there was no one around to see them.


End file.
